


Flashes of Blue

by EclipseMidnight (EternalEclipse)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Murder, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, I'm so sorry, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mission Fic, Slow Burn, diverges from canon a long while before the fic started, nonbinary anakin, who uses they/them pronouns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 12:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14260788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalEclipse/pseuds/EclipseMidnight
Summary: Finally done with their first year of independent missions as a Jedi Knight, Anakin Skywalker finds themself assigned to a paired mission with Senior Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, whose reputation as “the Perfect Jedi” is, in their honest opinion, rather unpromising. And then they meet the man, spend more time making explosives than they’d ever expected to need to while on a diplomatic mission, learn some perspective, and gain some very impressive nail-painting skills in the process.--on hiatus, pending rewrite--





	1. The Ties that Bind

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is very much a work in progress, but it's progressing. I hope to have the rest up as soon as possible :) This is a slow burn and my first time working with this pairing, or as long a piece as this is shaping up to be, so please bear with me and I promise you won't regret it!
> 
> Note: 4/12/18  
> I didn't want to do this, but comments are now being moderated. If you have good things to say, please, send them! If you have constructive criticism? Also wonderful, please send them! All of that will go up the moment I have a chance to, and I appreciate those that have already come in! (They give me life, thank you so much <3)
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I'm not happy with how this story is going, so it's undergoing a rewrite. I may take it down for a bit, or not we'll see.  
> BUT If you're going to complain about pronouns, please check yourself and your prejudices. That BS is not welcome here.

It took roughly thirty minutes to go from the entry point into Coruscant’s atmosphere to the hanger of the Jedi Temple. Those thirty minutes were more of an exercise in restraint than any of the missions Anakin had been on in the last year. There was just something about going home, they mused, grinning as they saw the Temple’s spires coming up quickly. It had been a long year of independent missions, and now they were home, having earned decisively their rank as Jedi Knight.

Anakin swung their ship around for the final approach, grinning as they touched down as smoothly as a baby bantha’s snout, and rolled to a stop. They were home. The motions of turning off the ship’s systems were second nature after so long, and Anakin regretted that they would likely have to part with the ship, _Sunscape_. Jedi didn’t have many possessions, but they did at least recognize the necessity of good, familiar tools, or what were lightsabers? That was Anakin’s argument, and they were sticking by it.

Before they knew it, Anakin found themself at the gangplank, watching it come down.

“Anakin!”

 They had barely gotten off of the steep exit before being enfolded in a set of arms that, even with their not inconsiderable height, still felt giant.

“Master Qui-Gon,” they replied, voice muffled in the shoulder of his robes.

After a few moments, Qui-Gon pushed them to arms length, taking them in. Anakin had spent the last six weeks working on a desert planet and it showed; their skin was almost as tan as it had been when they had first gotten off of Tatooine. Their hair had also turned blond again, but Anakin wasn’t sure how much of that was just sand they hadn’t been able to get out; sand got everywhere all the time in a desert, they would know.

Qui-Gon started walking towards the lifts. “It’s good to see you. Dinner tonight? I know I’ve seen you on holos, but it’s not the same.”

“Sure, I’m a little early, so I don’t have to meet with the Council until tomorrow.” Anakin rubbed at the back of their neck. “I’m not running on Coruscant time, but I hope you didn’t skip class just to see me?”

“No, it’s lunch break, I have another half hour until I have to get back to my junior padawans’ class about Mid-Rim cultures.” Anakin made a face, and Qui-Gon laughed. “It’s not as bad as you imagine, I think, though I’m glad that it’s almost over. They’re the last of my classes this rotation to take their final exams, and then I’m back to missions in a few days.”

“So soon?” 

“The universe doesn’t wait to give anyone a few days off, least of all a Jedi.”

“And your injury?” Anakin frowned at him. “Things aren’t so destabilized in the wider galaxy to need to be out there when you’re not at your best, and concussions are no good.”

“The Healers finally cleared me for missions two weeks ago, I thought I had told you.”

Anakin hummed in response as the lift opened on the Quartermaster’s floor. “You might have; it’s been a long few weeks. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Qui-Gon settled against the wall, watching fondly as Anakin went to face the Quartermasters. His former student had truly grown into their own while they were away. It had been obvious from the moment he had seen them. Truly, it had been visible even before that, over the holos that they had exchanged during the year they had been apart, but there was something about seeing it in person.

Anakin walked with a confidence in their ability to handle whatever came their way, every inch the Jedi he had watched them grow into. A bit untraditional, sure. Anyone he taught would likely be, with his beliefs. But Anakin was also very much their own person. It was bittersweet, having a student he’d taught for a decade move on from him, but it was only for the best reasons, and it was easy to see that Anakin was more then able to handle themself.

He hadn’t had doubts per say, but it was still an amazing thing to see.

Anakin walked back out of the Quartermaster’s office with ink stained hands and an assignment to a bed in the junior knight’s temporary barracks.

“Pending, of course, a mission that requires you to stay here.” Qui-Gon pointed out as they began walking to the commissary. 

“Yeah, but how likely is that?” Anakin scoffed. “I’m not injured enough for medical leave, and I’m hardly anyone’s first choice for a diplomatic mission, let alone one to the Senate. Unless you know something?”

“The ways of the Force are mysterious,” Qui-Gon smiled slightly at Anakin. “A few guesses, but nothing solid. The Senate’s been a bit unsettled lately as well, so don’t be so quick to knock it.”

“Okay, but it’s the _Senate_ ,” Anakin pointed out. They finally reached the commissary and Qui-Gon went for the wrapped sandwiches.

“I need to return to deal with my class, dinner at 7?” Qui-Gon evaded.

“Of course,” Anakin replied. “But don’t think that this is over.”

Qui-Gon patted their shoulder before turning and making back for the door. Anakin grumbled a bit before grabbing a tray for themself. It would be good to have real food again. They took a helping of tuber mash and grilled pearlbird and looked over the tables to see if there was anyone they recognized. They met eyes with Heri, who grinned and waved them over.

“Well, if it isn’t Anakin Skywalker, as I live and eat!” She patted the seat across from her.

“Isn’t it ‘as I live and breathe’, Heri?” Yeltsin pinched her.

Anakin grinned widely at the both of them. After they’d been introduced to the crèche, they’d been excluded for a time, but when the class bully decided that they were an easy target, Heri had punched the other kid in the face while Teresyn, their other friend, had held him to a wall. Yeltsin had sweet talked the crechemasters into letting them all off clean. They’d been friends ever since. Teresyn had been knighted half a year before and was somewhere out in the Outer-Rim at the moment, but Yeltsin had been a knight for just over two years and Heri wore the red striped sash of the medical corps. They’d missed all of them while they’d been gone, petty bickering and all.

“I can’t help it if I don’t breathe like you do!” Heri retorted. “Not everyone breathes like humans do, as you well know!” She fluttered some of her leaves in a pointed response.

“Oh? So is eating those tubers cannibalism? Are those your cousins?” Yeltsin shot back. Anakin took a big bite of their tubers as Heri made a judging face, feather-leaves rustling, before all three of them burst into laughter. It drew some side-eyes from other Jedi in the commissary, but Anakin paid them no mind. 

“So, Anakin, I’m sure you have all kinds of stories to tell us.” Heri prodded.

Anakin chuckled. “It’s been an interesting year for sure.” They took another bite of the bland poultry, being grateful that at least it didn’t have sand in it like all the rations he’d eaten in the last month. “Half my missions turned themselves into messes, but I didn’t die, and it wasn’t all bad. Besides, I’ve told you about most of it over holo.”

 “What about this last one, the ‘sith-cursed desert hell’?” Heri pressed further.

“Civil war over water rights to several of the oases that let there be anyone on that planet.” Anakin grimaced. “There was a team there to negotiate, but a good chunk of the population would have died of thirst if we’d waited for them, and the other half would have been happy to let them. Not a good time.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” Heri replied. Yeltsin hummed in agreement.

It truly hadn’t been. Anakin had spent weeks setting up rudimentary vaporators and finding new ways to access the little water that was there, while dodging the attempts of one of the tribes to try to stop them with any means necessary.

 “I think the Agricorps is sending someone to keep an eye on things now that there’s a treaty.” Anakin stared at the table. “I guess we’ll just hope things don’t change too much. 

“Yeah, so, let’s head to the meditation gardens for a few minutes, we can spar after this settles?” Heri suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” Anakin agreed. Spending the day with most of the people they cared about seemed like a great thing to do. They chatted excitedly all the way to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, where they chose a tall, thin piece in the southeast corner. Bits of water splashed onto their hands, which they held just over the bottom of the fountain. It was always a bit strange to come back from a desert planet, but Anakin had learned to just take comfort from what they had.

Anakin had had a lot of trouble learning how to meditate the first time. They’d probably never be able to do an extended meditation sitting still with no external stimulus. Using simple katas as a moving meditation worked rather well for them, but they had learned how to let themself float in the Force while also distracting the bits of themself that couldn’t turn into that with the unpredictability of the splashing water. If they weren’t moving, then something else around them would. 

Then, the Force pushed at them, breaking the meditative trance. Anakin found themself fully back in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, with their two friends still listening to the Force. The near-silence was broken with the sound of a gently chiming holopad. Anakin scrambled to turn it off, but grimaced instead when they saw who had interrupted then. 

“What is it?” Yeltsin asked. 

“The Council wants to see me,” Anakin scrolled down the message. “Something about a new mission.”

“Aww, raincheck on that spar?” Heri wheedled.

“Okay,” Anakin replied. “Here’s to hoping, no diplomacy.” Then they turned and marched away to the tune of hastily muffled giggles.

* * *

 “Knight Skywalker. Good to see you, it is,” Yoda called from the head seat in the Council room. “Come in, please do.”

Anakin bowed to the Council before stepping back. “What mission was so urgent that it couldn’t wait for after my debriefing tomorrow?”

“Time, of the essence is.” Yoda replied. “Prepared, you must be, for your task.”

“You have been requested to join the Naboo and the Gungans for their 15th anniversary celebration of their repelled invasion,” Mace continued for him. “There have also been threats made against several prominent senators in the last few weeks by an unknown source, but has sliced through and compromised several high-level systems to do so and as such is being taken seriously. There was an anonymous tip that connected the threats to a group with known force-sensitives, so we have been asked to intervene. Those threatened include Senator Amidala of the Naboo and Senator Organa of Alderaan. As Senator Organa and his wife is joining Senator Amidala for the duration of the celebrations, it will be your and your partner’s responsibility to protect them both without making it any more obvious than it absolutely requires. They’re likely to attack on Naboo, but it’s possible that something could happen on Coruscant.” 

“Who will be my partner?” Anakin asked.

Almost as if on cue, the Council doors opened, and in walked Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was followed in by a padawan, a teenaged chiss who was several inches taller than their master already.

“Knight Kenobi, I hope you’ve read the briefing packets?” Mace asked him. 

“Yes, and they have been very informative.” Obi-Wan turned to Anakin. “Knight Skywalker, it seems we will be working together?”

“Yes, so it seems.” _Fuck._

“A briefing packing will be sent to your datapad tonight, and I suggest you look it over before we see you tomorrow.” Plo Koon cut in.

“Dismissed, Knight Skywalker,” Mace said. Anakin bowed and left the room, side-eyeing Obi-Wan and his padawan as they did.

Anakin’s breath whooshed out of their lungs as soon as the solid doors of the main Council chamber shut. There was something about being stared at by judging eyes from all sides that they had never gotten used to, and that they doubted they ever would. The less time they had to spend with the Council, the better.

On the other hand, a political mission? Normally, they wouldn’t have been up for consideration for something like a protection detail for a politician, threats or no threats. Anakin had grown up to be very competent with mechanicals and their flying skills were second-to-none, but they would be the first to admit that despite their Master’s best efforts, they weren’t very skilled in diplomacy.

And the fact that they were to be working with Obi-Wan Kenobi was its own pot of sand. Anakin had no problems working with other people, and would freely admit that they would likely not be able to handle this sort of mission alone anyway, but Obi-Wan Kenobi had such a _reputation_ for having a stick up his rear end. Anakin was past being hurt by the disapproval of other Jedi, but on the other hand they weren’t sure how they would manage to work with the guy. 

Of course, if it was going to be anyone, it had to be Kenobi--he’d also been on Naboo, having been assigned to Master Qui-Gon’s missions with him at the time—or Qui-Gon. Anakin remembered how surprised they’d been when, after Naboo, Yoda had followed them out of the Council room, and Obi-Wan had left with him, and Anakin had found out that he was in fact Yoda’s apprentice. Still, they remembered Kenobi as being largely standoffish in their presence, and as having argued a lot with Qui-Gon. They hadn’t been assigned near Kenobi again since, which was likely because they had ended up in the creche for a while, and Kenobi had been knighted shortly after that mission.

Even if they hadn’t been working with Kenobi, it was harder to escape hearing about him. Yoda’s last student, years after Yoda claimed he was too old for a padawan: ‘The Perfect Padawan’ turned into ‘The Perfect Jedi’. Anakin heard from many other initiates and padawans about how they wanted to live up to that mantle. Or, occasionally, how _Anakin_ should aspire to such heights.

They truly didn’t get why Anakin didn’t, but then the Jedi didn’t grow up like Anakin had, surviving by being economical and cutting to the quick and getting around as many rules as they could without bringing attention to it. That, to Anakin, being ‘the perfect Jedi’ sounded like a death sentence.

Importantly for their mission, the rule-following meant that Kenobi wouldn’t be willing to get creative or interesting if it came to it. They also weren’t looking for lectures about how the Council was always right, or whatever, especially as teachings for the padawan Anakin hadn’t heard much about. At least they’d be around to provide a bit of an alternate perspective.

Anakin was lost in thought most of the way to Qui-Gon’s apartments. They blinked when they saw the numbers and letters signaling that they’d arrived in the right vicinity. That was more than enough about Obi-Wan Kenobi for one day. Or, at least, until Qui-Gon asked about it.

Anakin knocked, though they suspected that they still had access. Qui-Gon opened the door only a few moments after, and let them in. “You’re a little earlier than I was expecting, things are still cooking. 

“Sorry,” Anakin apologized, hanging their cloak on the rack. “The Council called me in, I wasn’t thinking too much about the time.”

“The Council? What did they want?”

“To talk to me about my next assignment. Apparently it couldn’t wait.” Anakin followed Qui-Gon into the kitchen. “What can I help with?”

“Stir the veg? They should only need another couple of minutes. I’ll check the meat.”

Anakin hummed and went to do just that. It looked like a mixture of purple tubers and arrowroot. Arrowroot was one of the only vegetables they’d had on Tatooine that was also grown outside of Hutt space; it had quickly become a staple in Qui-Gon’s diet after they’d become master and padawan.

At Qui-Gon’s direction, they took the veg off the heat and poured it into a bowl for the table. The meat went onto a plate, and they both settled down to eat. They dished out the food, Anakin taking an extra half-helping of the veg, before starting to talk.

“So, what are you being assigned to?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Protecting senators, through the ceremony on Naboo. It’s been fifteen years already.”

Qui-Gon hummed, taking a bite of the meat. “This turned out well. And I’d suspected something of the sort, I’m supposed to head out to Naboo as well. Queen Apailana and Boss Monn requested that a Jedi witness the re-signing of the treaty ahead of the celebrations, which I’ll be there for as well. So, Senator Amidala, I presume, and who else?”

“Senator Organa, and Obi-Wan Kenobi has been assigned as my mission partner.” Anakin tried not to grimace.

Qui-Gon wasn’t fooled, and admonished them anyway. “Obi-Wan is an accomplished knight, and is one of the best in the Order to have for diplomatic missions, and he knows his way around a lightsaber. He’s not perfect, and he’s got his head in the future more than I’d prefer, but he’s not bad to have around.”

 “Everything I’ve heard say’s he’s very traditional. But I suppose we’ll see. The mission should only last a few weeks one way or the other.”

 “Indeed.”

 Qui-Gon seemed content to let that go, and Anakin needed more details about the mission to figure out what kind of damage control they would need, so Anakin changed the topic. “So, do you have your eye on a new padawan yet?” Anakin asked. It had been a long time since they’d been able to tease Qui-Gon like this. 

Qui-Gon laughed. “Not yet, but I’m not too old for another in a couple of years. I’m thinking about it. And by then you might have one of your own as well. The Force will provide, of course.”

“Of course,” Anakin echoed. 

They continued to make small talk and Qui-Gon caught Anakin up on what had been going on in the Temple during their absence. Who had been knighted, who had taken on a padawan, the furor that had erupted when a senior padawan had been found to be bullying several of her juniors and had been summarily sent off to a dusty post in the Agricorps, somewhere out of the way, and her master, a young knight himself, was disciplined as well.

Anakin listened attentively, tapping their leg against the table rhythmically as Qui-Gon went on. They cleared up and Qui-Gon brewed them both a pot of tea, and it was Anakin’s turn to explain how their last mission had gone. Dusty desert hell, with a side helping of civil war, spiced with speciesism and misogyny and human suffering. The only saving grace was that neither side were slavers, but then slavers tended to be rich enough to flee unprofitable habitats, and it wasn’t like there was much to be found on that dustball.

It was exactly the kind of mission they had gone on occasionally when they had been master and padawan, only Qui-Gon would have been the negotiating party, and Anakin would have been sure that things would have settled in a timely manner. Then again, Qui-Gon was something of a giant in that arena, as much as he was in the flesh. It almost made Anakin want to go back and figure out how to become a high-powered negotiator, even though they knew that their talents lay elsewhere. It was frustrating to be so reliant on other people when you didn’t know them well enough to trust their talents. 

Anakin had just finished explaining most of this to Qui-Gon (minus the considerations they’d had for their own learning, or else Qui-Gon might pounce on it) when their holopad chimed. It was the briefing files for their new mission. 

“Go on,” Qui-Gon urged. “We’ll do this again before I leave. You’ll need to read those files, and get some sleep. You’ve earned it.”

“Thanks Master,” Anakin replied. “And don’t think you’re off the hook for telling me who you’re going to be taking as a padawan as soon as those things are decided!”

“Never.” Qui-Gon grinned, and the door closed between them.

* * *

The next morning dawned early, and Anakin had gotten used to getting up at a time that had translated to oh-dark-early on Coruscant. They had taken a brief look through the briefing packet the night before, but had quickly given it up for a lost cause as their eyes had begun to droop without permission. Now, though, with a meeting with the Council a few scant hours away and a full night’s rest behind them, they had no further excuse to put it off.

The part that described how the memorial ceremony on Naboo would work was fairly straightforward. While Anakin hadn’t often been called to perform at such ceremonies since their knighting, they had had a great deal of experience with them as a padawan, and had been pushed into participating in some hastier celebrations that followed the dawning of a new peace after a war. Not unlike the original Naboo celebration, they mused.

There would be a formal parade, followed by a ceremony and then less formal celebrations in the streets. They had a specific place to stand and walk, but thankfully wouldn’t be expected to say anything. It should be possible to get architectural plans for all of the areas they knew the Senators would be moving through, and they could vet the droids as a preventative measure. That was perhaps the simplest part of the operation.

Protecting them in the Senate building might be slightly more difficult, since there were so many people there from places that might dislike their charges’ planets, and it would be much easier to infiltrate with any given species given the diversity of staff that worked within the Senate building. On the other hand, Obi-Wan was likely familiar, and the Senate was in a tizzy over the threats anyway. If there was an attempt there, it should be possible to deal with without too much difficulty.

No, what Anakin was most concerned about was times when they had to travel. They’d seen it before; it was the easiest way to kidnap someone, and the most versatile. Attackers could steal their speeder, be their taxi driver, reel in their spaceships with tractor beams, or something more creative. A clever twist in the mechanicals and even the best-armored vehicle could explode mid-air, with nothing to point at why or how. And Nubian space vessels were very distinctive; it would be easy to guess what vehicles would be used even without the attacker’s superior slicing abilities. In that frame of mind, they skipped the specs of the Nubian space vessel; if they had their way they wouldn’t be traveling in that.

Using those vessels at the appointed time to return to Naboo for the anniversary was like painting a target on their backs. And it wasn’t like it’d be difficult to figure out the exact path they would take, even without hacking into the Department of Transportation’s Space Travel division and nicking their manifest and flight plans—it wasn’t like there were that many. And they would have to work on the basis that any route they submitted would be hacked. That would be more than possible if these people were as good as Mace said they were.

Anakin read over both senators’ itineraries with a critical eye, marking places where things could be changed without much problem. Knowing that several of Senator Amidala’s former handmaidens had joined her on Coruscant helped; they would be willing and able to play decoy once again, and were good security besides. They were proven and loyal enough that Anakin wouldn’t question their devotion. Organa didn’t have anything of the kind, but they could work that detail out later.

They noted that the Council had left the specific division of duties to be determined by them and Obi-Wan, which was surprising and heartening. It meant that they trusted them. Or at least trusted that Obi-Wan would keep Anakin in line, but that thought didn’t cut through the good mood they’d picked up in the wake of the first realization. 

The rest of their morning had been productive. Anakin had returned to the Quartermaster to be assigned to a small private room, in keeping with their extended mission on planet. Knights who didn’t expect to spend more than three days on planet, barring serious injuries, often didn’t get a private room of their own to begin with. Anakin had expected to fall into that category for many months, but a mission was a mission. It wasn’t like they were a permanent assignment; they wouldn’t get one of those until they picked up a padawan, and it wasn’t like they were planning on doing that just yet.

They looked over their report in preparation for the upcoming Council session, consciously trying to not think about what the next few days would bring. What did one even _say_ to a Queen-turned-Senator who they’d adored as a child? They were about ready to tear their hair out in nervousness.

They made their way to the waiting area of the Council’s chambers and sat there, paging through the messages that had come in for them again. One had come in from Kenobi, in the early hours of the morning. A request to share a meal in his quarters and discuss the mission. Anakin pursed their lips before writing out an acceptance. There were details that needed discussing, after all, and Anakin was determined to make it through their latest mission without any mishaps.

Soon after they had sent the message, they were called in to meet with the Council. It wasn’t a full Council today, which made sense. Their last mission was neither important enough, nor had gone badly wrong enough, to have to meet with a full Council, and they had already welcomed back a returning second-year knight as a whole the day before.

“Masters,” Anakin said, pretending that calling those who disdained them more than not such a title didn’t bring up bile. 

“Knight Skywalker,” Even Piell responded. “We have read your mission report, and those of Knights Par’ikan and Lankisser. We find your actions to have been satisfactory. Is there anything you would like to add to the report?”

“No, Master Piell.”

“Very well then.” Plo Koon called Anakin’s attention to him. “I hope you have had a chance to read over the briefing packet for the mission we assigned you yesterday?” 

“Yes, Master Koon.”

“Have you had a chance to discuss it with Knight Kenobi?”

“I will in a few hours,” Anakin cocked their head. “Things need to be done fast, of course, but if there was no one else, and things needed to be done so quickly, why not just drop it to my ship on a secured line before I got back?”

“The situation developed in the meanwhile, and we feared that with the slicer’s skills, nothing was secure enough.” Coleman Trebor, the third and final member of the Council present, cut in.

Anakin’s lip curled. “And a holopad on a network as big as the Jedi’s was better than restricted to one ship after the datastream finished, Councillors?” Anakin shook their head. “But that’s neither here nor there. Has anything happened that wasn’t in the data packet that I should know of?”

“Queen Organa has decided to join her husband for the Naboo celebrations. Given the role that Alderaan has played in bringing Naboo into galactic politics, that is unsurprising. When you arrive on Naboo, she will also be under your purview, though we hear that she is planning to bring her own security force as well.” Plo tapped his claws on his chair. “Aside from that, do you have any other questions?”

“No.”

“Then, as you would expect, Knight Kenobi is in charge of this mission, and you will be expected to follow his orders. You may be dismissed, Knight Skywalker.”

“Masters,” Anakin turned and left the room. 

They headed for the salles. Meeting with the Council, even such a pared-down group of them, always left them jittery and useless. Katas would help. They couldn’t afford to be distracted like this when they met with Obi-Wan later. 

After a couple of hours of katas and gymnastics, Anakin hit the fresher and prepared themself for the dinner. “Transportation, Organa, division of labor,” they muttered to themself as they went over points of interest.

All too soon, they found themself at Kenobi’s door, knocking. The chiss padawan opened the door, letting them in. 

“Thank you…” Anakin dragged on meaningfully.

“Trist Carawa. And you’re welcome, Master Skywalker.” Trist replied seriously, leading the way into the kitchenette, which was only a few steps away. A senior knight like Kenobi, even one with a padawan, wouldn’t be assigned the most spacious quarters without a special need, though these seemed serviceable.

The smell was lovely as well. A roast that looked more like takeout than commissary food, and it was likely better than most of what Anakin had eaten in the last couple of months. “Knight Skywalker,” Kenobi looked up at them. “Quite timely as well. Settle down at the table, and food will be ready in just a minute.” 

Anakin did as directed, feeling slightly awkward as they watched the master and padawan bustle around the kitchen, finishing the table settings and helping Obi-Wan bring the dishes to the table. It was definitely some kind of take out, Anakin spied the boxes in a corner, but it still looked and smelled amazing anyway.

They sat down to eat. The food was good, though Anakin still felt awkward as the others made small talk about classes and katas. They both asked Anakin for opinions, and Anakin did their best to contribute, but that didn’t make the awkwardness fade away very much. Anakin still felt jittery and wrong-footed.  Soon enough, the topic of conversation turned to the mission ahead of them. 

“How much experience do you have on these sort of diplomatic missions?” Obi-Wan asked Anakin.

“What?” Anakin startled. Kenobi began to repeat himself, but Anakin interrupted. “Not very much in a while. It became fairly obvious pretty early on that I’m better with other things.”

Kenobi hummed. “Trist and I have done some time as a protective detail, but usually as part of negotiating. Wrangling governments doesn’t work if half the representatives are dead.”

Beside him, Trist grinned. “I don’t know, sometimes it feels like that would be an improvement.”

Anakin snorted. _Maybe there was some hope yet for her._  “How do you want to deal with this then?”

“I’d rather wait until we can talk to the senator’s guard detail first--they may know more about the threat she faces than we do right now.” Kenobi folded his hands. Probably already in the mission mindset—that was what they were taught to do most often in diplomacy classes, because it would be hidden by robes, as would a piece of string if one needed to fiddle.

“What about things we can plan ahead of time? Those Nubian cruisers are pretty distinctive, couldn’t we ask to arrange to have them brought over in another ship?” Anakin asked.

“We could, but with what ship?” Obi-Wan pointed out patiently. “We’re talking about senators going to a celebration. Even aside from any questions asked if they turned up in a lesser vessel, what’s to say that it’s not easier for a rogue element to do ‘maintenance work’ on a vessel that no one knows to watch over? And it’s not like an Alderaani ship is much less conspicuous.”

“The public would probably take more offense if their Senator is killed than if they turn up in another ship,” Anakin responded stubbornly.

“Their ship is only one avenue of attack though, and they are well-guarded I am sure,” Obi-Wan rebutted. “It’s more likely that something will happen on Coruscant before they leave; it’s easiest for someone to hide here. We need to be vigilant in defending them in the Senate building.”

“Or on Naboo,” Trist piped in. “With a lot of people traveling to the main cities for the celebrations, it’d be easier to sneak in someone who doesn’t quite belong.”

Anakin decided to let that one go for the moment; they could always mention their concern to whoever was already working security for the senators. “And I suppose we figure out how once we’re there.” 

“Yes.” Obi-Wan tapped his chin. “Though I’m familiar with Bail Organa, I haven’t seen much of Senator Amidala since she was Queen.”

“We haven’t crossed paths yet, but Alderaan does a lot of relief work, so it was bound to happen eventually,” Anakin mused. 

Trist yawned, and Anakin found themself fighting one of their own.

“It’s getting late, and we have an early morning. Why don’t we meet in the speeder hangar at 06:00?” Obi-Wan asked. Anakin agreed, and set off for their own space, exhausted by their own nervous energy.

Only, when Anakin reached their room, they began to pace because they just couldn’t settle down. Everything suddenly became real at once. They _knew_ how to handle themself around politicians, being a padawan of Qui-Gon Jinn guaranteed that they had experience in that, but they hadn’t had to in some time, and it was easy to offend those types. Or they would give the game away too quickly, and someone would end up dead sooner or later because they made a mistake over subtleties.

They were very good with mechanicals; people not so much. And their missions most frequently required the quickest and most certain way of handling things, not the kind of keeping up the status quo that their mission partner was automatically concerned about. It mattered that the droid had all its wires connected, not that its casing was shiny.

They eyed the meditation mat that had come with the room with disgust, but ultimately turned to it. If they tried their usual moving meditations, they’d keep themself up longer, and if everyone was sleeping then the Force tended to be marginally calmer and easier to connect with. Anakin settled themself in a lotus position and started their breathing exercises.


	2. It's Hard To Be A Saint In The City

Anakin’s holopad chimed with the alarm they had set back when they had had some hope of sleeping the night through. They jumped and rushed to turn it off--had it always been that loud? They didn’t quite remember staggering over to their bed after the rush ended, but it couldn’t have been long before. Then they went about an approximation of their morning routine, and were out the door and at their assigned speeder a good quarter-hour early, pretending they had anything to do there except start pacing again.

Kenobi showed up five minutes later, dressed immaculately with his padawan a step behind and to his left. Trist was yawning as well--at least someone else thought this was too early in the morning to function. Which it was--the sun was just peeking up. 

“Knight Skywalker, good morning,” Kenobi greeted him

“You too.” Anakin replied, immediately fighting a yawn. They were almost glad that they were too exhausted from not sleeping to feel awkward. 

“Shall we?” Kenobi gestured to the speeder. Anakin climbed into the driver’s seat. Kenobi took the passenger’s side, and the padawan slipped into the back. 

The speeder was one of the few that Anakin had been tinkering with. It went faster more efficiently than the model was originally designed to--though the whole thing was a bit of a mess to begin with, in their humble opinion. The Temple may teach asceticism as a way of life, but if they were also supposed to help other people it made sense to have vehicles that could actually move if they needed them to. It wasn’t like any bounty hunters interfering with their work would be using standard models.

Anakin tried not to grind their teeth chewing on the familiar argument, knowing as they thought it that they were more annoyed at not being able to see Qui-Gon again before he left than anything else. It was easier to think about mechanicals than emotions, nontraditional Jedi teachings aside.

Though it wasn’t like Kenobi’s main concern was how to be most certain of success when he was worrying about appearances—Anakin would likely have to take over that. They pulled into the nearest vein of traffic headed towards the Senate building with ease. With any luck, they wouldn’t be dealing with bounty hunters, but if they were then Anakin knew that they would be prepared for it.

The trip was nearly silent, with both of Anakin’s passengers reading off of datapads. There was no interaction except Obi-Wan’s arm bumping theirs on occasion when they turned, and Trist muttering something to herself in the backseat. 

“Did you sleep well?” Obi-Wan finally asked, most of the way there.

Anakin was going to respond, but they had to swerve to miss a speeder that swung into their lane in front of them. They honked their horn and cursed vehemently under their breath. 

“Everything alright?” Kenobi asked.

“Fine. We’re nearly there,” Anakin responded, refocused. They were as well; the Senate dome loomed large ahead of them. They pulled into the semi-protected airspace and settled the speeder into the in-lane, and were waved in by a bored-looking guard when they saw the Jedi symbol emblazoned on a speeder populated by figures in Jedi robes. It was something of an oversight, Anakin thought, but first they had a mission.

Anakin found themself easily following Kenobi through the twisting halls of the Senate. It was clear that the other man had a great deal more experience negotiating them, and Anakin was happy to leave it to him. If they were lucky, they wouldn’t be seeing too much more of this semi-functional opulence, and it would be because they finished the mission, the threat was gone, and no one had anything to fear any longer. Such was the dream, in any case.

They passed several guard posts that also didn’t bother to look for further identification when they saw the Jedi robes, which rankled at Anakin but didn’t seem to bother Obi-Wan. If all the terrorists had to do was walk on in in Jedi robes, it was a wonder the senators weren’t already dead. They were about ready to tear the entire Senate Guard a new one when they reached the Naboo offices. 

Obi-Wan rang the doorbell and the door opened to a somewhat familiar face. Gregor Typho looked a bit like how his uncle did at his age, though he had had a beard in the picture that had been in the briefing packet.

“Sers Jedi,” he greeted them. “Please come in. We have much to discuss.”

“Indeed, thank you” Obi-Wan smiled slightly, and held the door open for Anakin and Trist behind him. The captain probably knew what they were meant to look like but the deference shown them for just being Jedi was strange and uncomfortable.

Typho took them past the public office and into the receiving room of the living quarters. There was an armchair and a pair of couches, one of which was occupied by a young woman who looked a fair bit like the senator, but who, upon closer reflection, definitely wasn’t. But then Naboo had a habit of employing decoys to protect their Queens and former-Queens, as losing a former monarch did tend to put a damper on a population.

“Senator Amidala,” Obi-Wan greeted without batting an eyelash. Anakin almost turned to him in shock. Didn’t he realize he was looking at a fake? But then it would probably be the more diplomatic solution to ignore that facet of the situation. By the twin suns, it had been a while since they’d had to deal with those sorts of concerns.

“Master Jedi,” the woman returned. “Breakfast is being prepared now, and will be ready in just a minute. It’s early, so I’m sure you haven’t had a chance to eat yet. Perhaps we can spare the details of this dilemma until afterwards, when all of my security can be present?”

“Of course, Senator, we aim to please,” Obi-Wan flirted. Anakin caught Trist rolling his eyes in their peripheral vision when the decoy wasn’t looking and felt like doing the same. That was laying it on a bit thick.

The spread was delicious, and Anakin hadn’t eaten much that morning, having packed meal bars into the inner hidden pockets of their robes and resigning themself to the duration. Now that the mission had begun and they were settling in to the situation, it was a bit easier to stomach, though the sugar of the pastries was perhaps a bit much. The tea, which they had grown a taste for over the years, was excellent, however.

Three other young women, two of them nearly identical to the one who had introduced herself as the senator, joined them. Anakin recognized one of them as actually being Padmé, but didn’t say anything. Typho stood by the large windows, keeping watch, though he did take a small plate for himself. Conversation was nearly nil.

Eventually they were done, and the plates were taken away. “Master Jedi,” Padmé addressed them. “It is good to see you again, though we would have preferred to meet in better circumstances.”

“Yes, well we will do everything in our power to keep you safe, senator.” Obi-Wan smiled again. At this point Anakin was fairly certain that the flirting wasn’t even a conscious response. 

“Yes, well.” Padmé cleared her throat. “There has been quite a ruckus. Even Chancellor Palpatine has been assigned a guard in this mess. And I believe that I’m to be sharing you with Bail at some point?”

“Only once we get to Naboo, and I believe he’s had someone else assigned to him,” Anakin replied. “Until then, we have been assigned here.”

“Oh. Well. Make yourselves welcome. Typho can brief you on how we usually do things, if you haven’t been told yet. You might remember Sabé from the last time we met.” Padme gestured to the woman on her right. “This is Cordé. Moteé was here just earlier, and Dormé and Versé are nearby. Cordé most often acts as a decoy for me these days; if you see her doing so, please go along with it.”

“As you wish,” Obi-Wan replied. 

“All of us are experienced in self-defense,” Cordé cut in. “In most situations we can handle ourselves. But as most of the Naboo are entirely force-blind, we won’t get warnings about any situations that arise from that sector.”

“There will be at least another two days before we begin traveling back to Naboo,” Padme said. “There’s at least one important Senate vote that I must be here for. Things are unsettled with some planets threatening to secede, as the News is actually reporting accurately, but I doubt that anything is going to happen there. Naboo is a peaceful planet, and not in anyone’s way.”

“So, we are to join you for one more session of the Senate before we set off for Naboo?”

“I don’t think you should be at the Senate vote in our pod; that would be a bit obvious.” Padmé grimaced. “There must be some kind of excuse with the other Jedi bodyguards hanging around. The threats are not known to the public, after all. With the targets being who they are, we think it might be a ploy to push the Secessionists into action, one way or the other.”

“I’m sure we can find another excuse to be in the area,” Obi-Wan soothed. “Jedi are occasionally tasked to the Senate. It wouldn’t be my first time.” There was a rueful grin. “Though Anakin might be better stashed in here for the time being.”

Anakin’s skin prickled as they forced down their first reaction and tried for a more measured one. “No one who knows me would think I had any reason to be here,” Anakin agreed. “Politics is important and all, but it’s not the kind of thing I’m usually dealing directly with.”

“Well, maybe you can have a chance to experience some more,” Padmé suggested. “If Master Kenobi and his padawan wouldn’t mind checking in with Bail and being seen around the Senate with his padawan, you could stay here for the time being.”

“That certainly sounds doable,” Obi-Wan agreed. “You have my comm code if you need me for anything in the meanwhile.”

The door closed gently between the pair of them, and Anakin began to feel slightly less awkward. Being about Obi-Wan Kenobi was messing with their head, maybe. Or maybe it was the way that the women across from them seemed to relax a bit with Obi-Wan’s presence steadily moving away, force-blind or not. Though Anakin would have to be blind to miss the tangle that Sabé and Padmé’s hands made together, even slightly hidden it was. 

“Ani, it is good to see you. You look well.” Padmé offered.

“And you too,” Anakin replied. “Uh, all of you I mean. You’re all lovely—yeah.” The women laughed a little, and Anakin felt their insides shrivel a bit. This was, apparently, how one greeted a childhood idol and her closest associates.

“He’s cute,” Cordé said, still smiling. “Why don’t we show him the rest of this place.” Anakin pursed their lips. They’d forgotten to check into Naboo attitudes on gender, and they weren’t sure how much of a faux pas they would be making if they corrected her. Naboo was a deeply traditional society regarding families from what they remembered, and that often didn’t mean anything good regarding gender equality, but they had some hope.

Suddenly Anakin’s holopad chimed its alarm tone. They straightened and pulled it out, only to relax a moment later. It was just an alarm tone they had set to recur and forgot to turn off. They quickly turned it off and used the few seconds it bought them to search ‘naboo attitudes gender’ on the holonet. They clicked on the first link, which was from some research center, and closed the pad. “Okay, sounds good,” they said.

The senatorial suite was bigger than they would expect for within such an expensive district, and yet not so big that there was space to spare. There were three smaller bedrooms and a larger one, all pointed out with doors shut, a bathroom, a small kitchen, and then the private receiving room and office. It spanned two levels, and there was a private entrance on the lower level that led directly to the living quarters.

Anakin made a mental note of where the all windows were, which numbered quite a few since they had an office on the outer ring. Some of them were clear for a while, as made sense only in such a place as the Senate, but that didn’t prevent someone from ramming up next to them in a speeder. There were a couple with buildings close enough for snipers, and Anakin took mental notes. 

They went back into the receiving room, which was apparently mostly just used as a communal area, only to find several of their charges clustered around a side table, with Typho nowhere in sight. Before Anakin could decide to do otherwise, Sabé waved them over.

“I know you’re a Jedi, but if we’re going to be spending the next month together, we should get to know each other better,” She said. Anakin cocked their head slightly in incomprehension as she picked up one of the bottles of dark blue polish from the table. “Do you have any problems with painted nails?”

Anakin barely had a chance to process that before they ended up on one of the couches, the cushions of which were turned the other way than they were just before, with one of Sabé’s hands in theirs, a bottle of polish open on the table next to them. Across from them, Moteé was already painting the nails of one of the women they hadn’t met in the same color.

“Not that I have any particular problem with it, but why is it so important to do this now?” Anakin asked. “Won’t we get to know each other better anyway when we’re in hyperspace?”

“When one of us is playing the role of the Senator, every detail of our disguises needs to be identical. It seems like a minor thing, but it could easily give one of us away.” Sabé met Anakin’s eyes and smiled ruefully. “Makeup can hide a lot of things, and we’re all taught how to put it on very quickly. It takes too long to deal with colored nails in a pinch, so it’s better if we all have the same one put on at the same time. Padmé and Versé are out in the office making a show for Naboo, but they’ll switch out once we’re done here, and when Cordé wakes, we’ll do hers as well. And you’re not going out there--” Sabé saw their aborted movement. “You don’t have a good cover story yet, and Typho’s with them. They’ve got a panic button, and you’re just the next room over. Now, we’re going to 

“I see,” Anakin replied, mollified. 

“Also, it’s a good bonding activity. Most of us were introduced to each other when we were learning to be handmaidens for our Queen by being told to do each other’s nails.” Sabé shrugged. “It seems like a little thing, but it’s important to us.”

“Okay, okay, but you’ll have to show me how to do it right. I’ve never painted anyone’s nails before.”

Sabé grinned and pulled one of Anakin’s hands to her instead. “Well. Let’s show you how then.”

Anakin watched as Sabé explained her tips and tricks of the group of women that had been the handmaidens when Padmé had been Queen. Much more quickly than they had expected, their nails had an even coating of the dark blue polish, and Sabé was holding out her hand for them to give it a go. They took a deep breath, and gave it a try.

Moteé and Dormé switched with Padmé and Versé while Anakin was still painting Sabé’s nails and crowded around to offer more advice. Surprisingly, it didn’t come out too badly. With Sabé’s guidance and some quick cleaning up when they did something wrong, it turned out rather well. That was in part due to their steady hands, which was a requirement for the kind of fine-tuning of mechanicals they enjoyed doing the most. 

After they were done, Anakin turned to Versé, thinking to give Sabé and Padmé a moment to themselves, but after the two exchanged a glance, Padmé claimed the spot next to them. “I hope this mission hasn’t proved much of a chore?” 

Anakin snorted. “A chore? Someone is threatening you—why aren’t you taking it seriously?”“It’s hardly the first time, and most of these threats don’t ever go anywhere. People are just jumping at shadows because of the potential threat of force-sensitives.” Padmé replied. “Now, would you rather start with the left side or the right?”

Anakin picked up Padmé’s left hand and began to paint. She waited until they were dipping the brush back in for more polish before musing, “Fifteen years is a long time, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Anakin agreed, even though it wasn’t really a question.

“So many things are different, and so many are the same.” Padmé smiled over at them. “Thank you for protecting us. I’m glad to have the help if something happens, even if I don’t think anything will.”

“Of course,” Anakin agreed, before adding polish to her last finger. “I think that’s done, though I’m not the best judge.”

“It looks good, thank you,” Padmé glanced down at their fingers. “Though it seems that Sabé beat me to the punch. Yours looks nice as well.”

“Uh, thank you,” Anakin stammered. “I’m just going to, you know,” they gestured vaguely towards the windows. 

“Do what you need to,” Padmé waved Anakin over to where they were looking. They stepped just far enough away to give the illusion of privacy while keeping a weather eye out on the happenings inside. The handmaidens must have decided that Anakin couldn’t hear them, because the gossip almost immediately turned to the Jedi.

Sabé immediately teased Padmé. “Do I need to worried about getting replaced by a younger model?”

To Anakin’s slight surprise, Padmé teased back. “He has grown up to be quite handsome, even if I still remember him as a plucky child. Hmm, but I think you’re safe tonight, love.”

Another voice meant that Versé had likely joined the conversation. “And what about the other one?”

Padmé reminisced. “I remember Obi-Wan as being quite handsome fifteen years ago. He still is now, I think, though I’m not sure how I feel about the beard.” 

“Rather attractive still, I’d say,” Sabé replied.

“Do I need to worry about being thrown out for an older model then?” Padmé teased, causing all three of them to laugh.

Anakin was rather grateful that they weren’t painting nails still-they would have made a mess of her hand for that comment, and however much it may have deserved such they didn’t want to mess with what was apparently quite a serious tradition. Attractive? Obi-Wan Kenobi? With the stick up his rear and the surprising sense of humor and the ginger hair that stood out across a crowded room? Handsome?

“Does anyone get the sense that the two of them….” Versé trailed off, and her companions made thinking noises. Anakin’s face burned, and they just hoped that the windows weren’t reflecting it.

“The Jedi have restrictions,” Sabé pointed out. 

“Oh really now,” Cordé poked her head out, yawning. “It’d take one of their lightsabers to break the tension. Though maybe not that one,” she gestured with her free hand to the lightsaber hanging off of Anakin’s belt. Anakin blushed harder and tried to move discreetly to another room. “Not sure if it’s the kind that sex would help or make worse,” Cordé was saying. Anakin thought about anything that wasn’t in the room; they weren’t sure of how much more of that gossip they could handle. 

“There’s nothing like that going on here,” they muttered as soon as they made it to the next room. “And how would you feel like if I teased the two of you.” Of course Obi-Wan was objectively physically attractive—diplomatic types tended to put the effort in to be, as it made their lives easier—but he was nearly half again his age and stodgy besides.

Significantly calmer, Anakin re-entered the main room. There was no point in guarding an empty one with this many lines of sight and entry. “Nothing yet,” they announced.

“As expected,” Sabé replied. Cordé was nowhere in sight, possibly back to sleep, Anakin thought.

She and Padmé were holding hands again, and Anakin felt compelled to ask. “And how does that even work, with her being part of your security force?” they directed at Padmé. They both looked at each other, slightly surprised, before Sabé turned back to Anakin.

“Either of us would take a bullet for the other,” Sabé replied soberly. “And have, on occasion. But we love our planet and we know how to keep an eye on what’s best for it. Which is usually keeping Padmé safe and free and healthy, for as long as possible.” 

The conversation turned to lighter topics after that, and Anakin was glad of it. That had been more than enough, especially the bits about them and Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan had also been gone for a long time. Anakin wondered if they should start getting worried, but their comm and the panic button both remained silent. So they waited, making small talk and learning more about Naboo as only a native would know it, hoping that Obi-Wan would return soon. At one point Cordé re-emerged and Moteé went to sleep. Versé did her nails afterwards. At one point Typho was used as a mannequin to teach Anakin more advanced nail-painting techniques. The man looked fond as they pored over his nails.

Eventually, people went their own ways. Anakin stood by the biggest window, keeping watch. They were still standing there when the doorbell rang. They twisted around, startled, as Obi-Wan walked in the main door, followed by their padawan. His face was folded into a serious look that made Anakin’s heart beat faster with adrenaline on seeing it. He must have learned something.

“Someone made an attempt on Bail’s life a few minutes after I left. He’s fine, just a bit unsettled, but it was a serious attempt. The only reason it failed is because they were trying to kidnap him, not to kill him.”

“Why would they do that?” Anakin asked.

“Oh, lots of reasons.” Obi-Wan gesticulated as he talked, accentuating his unease. “Ransom, political capital, revenge, or maybe something more exotic. He has as guard as well for the interim, so that we can stay here as well. Did anything happen here while I was gone?”

“Not much,” Anakin replied. “And I didn’t see any threats.”

“That’s hopeful,” Obi-Wan sighed. “It’s nearly dinner time. How would you like to divide shifts? I’m fairly flexible in that regard.”

Anakin hummed. “If I go to sleep now, then I’ll be in good shape to take a later night shift. Though you might want your padawan to join me; now, at least, everyone’s on their guards. They run a night shift, but it’s usually only one person. And I’m too tired to stay awake much longer unless there was a really good reason.”

“Fair enough,” Obi-Wan replied. “I’ll take this shift, if you’ll take the next. Trist can sleep now and guard the door later, yes?”

“Yes, Master,” Trist replied dutifully. 

Trist and Anakin went to the room that had been set aside for them. Trist took a pile of blankets on the floor, offering Anakin the bed, for which Anakin was rather appreciative. After not having slept in the last two days, Anakin was grateful for the bed, and quickly fell asleep.

They were warm and comfortable when they were shaken awake. It took Anakin a minute to place Obi-Wan, who, upon confirming that they had awoken, and gone to wake up his padawan.

“Everyone’s sleeping,” Obi-Wan said. “Nothing all night so far. I’d like Trist by the outside of the receiving room, and you at whatever window you think is best. The Force is being silent except that something is imminent.”

“Imminent?” Anakin came fully awake.

“Yes. See you in the morning.” Obi-Wan fell asleep on the bed almost immediately. Anakin turned and left, with Trist following behind and not saying a word.

The first hour of their shift was rather boring as was usual for these things. A few speeders flying a little closer than regulation but still within the common zone. Nothing, nothing, and more nothing coming their way. The second hour passed much the same. Anakin felt a bit like nodding back off themself, but refused to. They had their pride, and the mission had a real element of danger, even if it was political in nature. They were used to hurry up and wait. 

Nearly three hours in, Anakin found themself feeling a great deal sleepier than they had just a minute before. The world became a bit hazy as they struggled to keep their eyes open. It took them thirty seconds to guess that this was the work of the attackers. Anakin used a touch of the Force to push back the fog and shouted.

There was some muffled cursing as Moteé came fully awake from her post near the bedroom door and started struggling against an assailant there. There were also some thumping noises from further away. What caught Anakin’s focus was the gas canisters—needed to make those stop—and the getaway vehicle that was moving closer. They went to pick up the first of three canisters and threw it with all their might at the speeder.

The first one missed. The second and third, however, didn’t. A figure in the backseat threw them out of the vehicle, but not before it illuminated them for a moment. A zabrak, bounty hunter by the clothing, but likely a member of the terrorist group. They couldn’t place them, but that wasn’t their main concern. But just as they were about to go bring down the speeder, a shout came from within the hallway to the bedrooms and Anakin went running.

When they got there, they saw that Moteé was on the ground and that Dormé was trying to fight off two assailants with one arm hanging limply at her side. A glance further down revealed Sabé and Padmé with blasters that they knew how to use—a third and fourth assailant lay with smoking blaster holes in them. The walls were spotted with blaster shots that, by their angles, had been deflected via lightsaber. Obi-Wan had pulled out their lightsaber and, even as Anakin watched, bisected the first at the waist and taking off the left arm of the second in the same moment. The assailant froze and toppled. The smell of burned flesh filled the air.

Before Anakin could do more than make sure that none of theirs were dead, there was a loud bang and a shout from where Trist was. Anakin turned and ran, cursing themself for not wondering where the padawan had been. They found her deflecting blaster bolts from at least two guns down the hall while covering a fallen Typho. By the sound of it, the assailants were running away to fight another day. Trist looked away when she heard Anakin, and suddenly there was a blaster bolt in her torso.

“Trist!” Obi-Wan called from behind Anakin. Anakin started running after the assailants, knowing that the situation behind them would be handled. Unfortunately for them, the shooters jumped out an open window into a getaway vehicle. Anakin was just close enough to recognize the make and model before it disappeared into the ever-bustling Coruscanti airways. They grit their teeth and returned to the Naboo senatorial suite, which now had several of the Senate Guard involved.

It wasn’t pretty, but it could have been worse. Trist was being prepped for transport to the Jedi Temple, where she would have a dip in bacta, but she would likely suffer no permanent side effects from her injuries. Captain Typho, Moteé, Cordé, and Dormé would all go to the hospital, though Cordé just needed a few stitches from where she had been shoved into furniture and would be out nearly as soon as she went in. The other three would recover fairly quickly, except for Dormé’s broken arm. Sabé, Versé, and Padmé were all uninjured. 

Of the assailants, the four bodies had been recovered from the hallway. The woman whose arm was cut off had died shortly after, despite how lightsaber wounds self-cauterized, due to a suicide pill. There were at least four still at large. It was a larger group than they had expected, in part due to the fact that most large groups like that were highly organized, and because they tended to have a loose link somewhere.

Even though in theory everything was over, Anakin still felt uneasy. The Force still felt boiling with mal-intent even above the usual Coruscanti hubbub. This wasn’t over yet.

Perhaps it was time to convince everyone that they were better served leaving early and taking an unpredictable, circuitous route to Naboo? As much as they wished they could, they also realized that it would likely be impossible. There were Senate votes and status quos and, at some point the Chancellor showed up, and he would need to stay safer than he was anyway.

Anakin found themself sticking by Padmé and hers. In part it was because their instincts were going haywire, but it was mostly so that Obi-Wan could go tend to his padawan. Anakin was impressed by the skills they had seen. If that was what Obi-Wan was like on any given day, Anakin was glad to be on a mission with him for backup, hide-bound-ness and all. 

Anakin decided to mention their worries over staying locally to Padmé, who gave them a thoughtful look and went to discuss it with her peers. Finally, a plan was hatched. Sabé and Padme would leave the next evening, which let Padmé discuss their plans with Bail, who, lacking a convenient body double, couldn’t join them. Cordé would pretend to be Padme, and Versé would take the lead on what Sabé usually did, as the uninjured remaining former handmaiden.

The Senate Guard kept watch the rest of the night, allowing all of the Naboo and Anakin to rest easily. Anakin trusted that they’d make a ruckus if at all possible, and that that would wake them up. They left a message via holo for Obi-Wan, informing him of the status of the handmaidens and indicating that they needed to talk, before turning in. There was no reason to believe that the mysterious slicer would check their messages, but if they did, there would be nothing out of place to find.


End file.
